


what you do to me

by gayycryptid



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Singer!Neil, Songfic, kind of, this is probably ooc im sleep deprived and emotional so, very mushy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 06:15:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15309234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayycryptid/pseuds/gayycryptid
Summary: Neil Josten is living his dream, singing his songs to thousands of adoring fans. He just wished the only person who mattered could be here with him.Basically i listened to Hey There Delilah by the Plain White T's and got emotional





	what you do to me

**Author's Note:**

> strongly recommend listening to hey there delilah while reading this

“Andrew? Can you hear me?” Neil moved his laptop around a little, in search of a better signal. The computer screen in front of him was frozen and pixelated, Andrew’s fragmented voice echoing in his ear.

Neil sighed. “Andrew, you’re breaking up. Andrew?” The screen had gone completely black now. Andrew was gone.

Breathing deeply, Neil fought the urge to throw the laptop across the narrow bus. Of course, travelling cross-country on a shitty tour bus would make the internet at least a little spotty. That didn’t mean that Neil couldn’t complain about it.

It had now been three months and four days since he had seen Andrew, real and alive and warm under his hands. Every day hurt more than the one before. They spoke most days, of course, and attempted a video chat fairly often. It wasn’t the same.

Pushing down the awful feeling gathering in his gut, Neil tried to think of a suitable distraction. He levered himself off the couch and went to knock on Kevin’s door, steadying himself against the movement of the bus.

The door cracked open and Kevin’s face appeared. “What?”

“Want to practice some songs? You can yell at me all you want,” Neil offered hopefully.

Kevin’s eyes lit up for a moment, obviously delighted at the opportunity to scold Neil on everything from his bad guitar-holding posture to his ‘pitchy’ voice. Neil held back a scowl, needing Kevin’s brand of bitchiness just then.

Maybe Kevin could see something in Neil’s eyes, but his expression turned suspicious. “Why now? You haven’t been interested in improving yourself for the past three months.”

Neil let the scowl escape. “Can you not be difficult this once, Kev-“

“Don’t tell me you’re getting tired now? We still have weeks to go, some of the best venues still ahead o-“

Neil gave up, too annoyed by the shitty internet and the stupid bus and the terrible lack of Andrew to put up with Kevin. He turned to walk to his own room, when Kevin said, “Wait.”

Neil turned to look at him. The look in Kevin’s eyes had softened, nearly imperceptibly. It was only because of their long friendship that Neil noticed.

“It’s Andrew, right?” Kevin asked. Neil hesitated, then nodded. “I get it. It was hard. For me and Thea, I mean.” Kevin looked predictably uncomfortable with the topic. Neil nearly smiled.

“So what do you do? When you miss her?” Neil inquired, not sure he should be asking Kevin for advice, but not seeing any other choice.

Kevin shrugged. “Music, mostly. Honestly, you just get used to it, eventually.”

Neil didn’t _want_ to get used to it. Instead of saying that, he just nodded and said, “Practice?” Kevin nodded and stepped aside to let him through.

*

Later that night, Neil lay awake, unable to fall asleep. He was thinking of Kevin’s words. He’d said that music helped him when he was on tour. Neil could understand that. For as long as he could remember, music was the only thing he had. The only thing that made him want to survive his father, survive Lola, survive his mother and their life on the run. Late nights, spent writing songs, singing until his voice ached, until his hands couldn’t unclench from his guitar. That was what Neil had stayed alive for.

Music wasn’t all he had now. But it was still the first thing.

On an impulse, he got up from his bed and reached for his laptop, plugging it in. While he waited for it to start up, he fetched his guitar from where it sat in a corner and flipped the lights to the room. The lighting wasn’t perfect, but it would do.

Sitting cross-legged in front of the laptop, Neil opened the camera app and angled the screen towards him. He hadn’t made a video in a while, too busy from the commotion of his first album and subsequent tour. It had been even longer since he’d filmed using a webcam, but he had had no reason to bring his equipment with him.

Neil already knew what he was planning on singing. Covers were far out of his comfort zone, generally preferring to write his own music, to make it _his_. But of course, he would do this for Andrew.

So, he got himself comfortable, started the video and sang, with everything he had. Poured out his loneliness and sadness and every emotion his mother would never have allowed him to feel, into the song. Neil shut his eyes and pretended he was far away, back in their apartment in New York, singing to Andrew, only. He could picture his face, blank and expressionless, but with a slight glint in his eye, the one he saved just for Neil.

Despite his best efforts, Neil’s voice cracked as he sang.

*

Neil woke the next morning, feeling slightly better. After he ate breakfast, he called Andrew, talked about the indecisive New York weather and how awful yet amazing touring was. Andrew called him a junkie and then hung up, leaving Neil’s heart nearly completely full.

Due to the lack of proper internet on the bus, Neil couldn’t upload the video until they reached the next city, San Francisco. A couple hours before his show, he re-watched the video in its unedited glory. He hadn’t bothered with an intro or sign-off, getting straight to the point. Neil winced when he heard the concentrated emotion in his voice and considered not uploading it. But this wasn’t for the subscribers. This was Andrew. And for himself. 

He clicked upload, then went to get ready for the soundcheck.

*

Neil had played dozens of shows over the last three months, one week and two days. He had yet to get rid of pre-show jitters. He stood backstage, gulping down a bottle of water trying not to shake himself apart. 

Kevin was winding down his set, which meant it was nearly time.

Neil couldn’t quite get his head wrapped around Kevin’s role on this tour. He was a part-time opening act, part-time manager and full-time pain-in-Neil’s-ass. Neil had to appreciate all that Kevin had done for him, even though he was an asshole about it.

Neil was pulled from his thoughts by a stage hand waving him onto the stage. He nodded jerkily, pulled his guitar across his body and walked onto the stage. Kevin slapped him roughly on the shoulder as he exited the stage. Neil thought it was supposed to be encouraging.

The moment Neil stepped into view, the crowd exploded into sound. He didn’t like loud noises, usually, but the cheers of the crowd were like music.

Neil sat on the stool and adjusted the microphone, focusing hard so he didn’t do something embarrassing. When he was settled, he faced the crowd and smiled slightly. Instead of the hyping up that Kevin encouraged him to do, Neil simply said, “Hey guys, thanks for coming. I really appreciate it.” And it was true, he was grateful to every person that made this possible.

Then he sang, and everything snapped into place. Just for a moment. And Neil loved every second.

A dozen songs later, he left the stage, grinning wildly from the adrenalin rush. The crowd was still roaring behind him, demanding an encore, even though Neil had already given them one. Sometimes it was hard to believe that all those people were for him. Neil had half-convinced himself that they were here for Kevin’s opening act.

But no. They thought he was worth something. Kevin thought he was worth something. He wasn’t nothing.

Kevin threw a water bottle at his chest as soon as he saw Neil and Neil fumbled to catch it.

“Afterparty?” Kevin asked. Neil thought for a second, then nodded.

“For a little while,” he told Kevin.

*

The afterparty wasn’t anything special. Flashing lights, loud music, drunk people crashing into him. The usual. Not Neil’s scene, at all.

He put up with the environment for an hour, meeting all the people Kevin wanted him to meet and hiding in the corner at every opportunity he got.

Eventually, he made eye contact with Kevin and jerked his head toward the exit. Kevin looked disapproving but agreed easily enough. Strange.

Neil didn’t dwell on Kevin’s out of character compliance for very well, spending the ride back to the hotel in his usual post-show daze. Even in the haze, he wished for a moment that Andrew was here to share in the feeling.

Neil didn’t have to wish for much longer.

When he walked into the hotel’s lobby, the first thing his eyes landed on was Andrew, sitting on one of the couches staring at his phone.

Neil’s breath left him all at once, just staring. Andrew hadn’t noticed him yet.

Kevin nudged him from behind, saying, “He came all this way. Don’t leave him waiting _now_.” Neil turned to gape at Kevin. He _knew_. Kevin just rolled his eyes and walked towards the elevators.

Neil stepped towards Andrew, who had finally looked up.

“What are you doing here?” he breathed, convinced he was hallucinating.

Andrew didn’t answer the question, raising an eyebrow and saying, “Hey there Delilah? Really?”

Neil blushed slightly. He had forgotten about the video. 

“You’re the one who flew all the way to San Francisco,” Neil retorted. He hadn’t thought for a second that Andrew would do that. “I thought you couldn’t get time off work?”

Andrew shrugged, finally standing up and walking to the elevators. Neil followed him silently.

They spent the ride in silence. Neil longed to touch Andrew, to make sure that he was really there but he knew they would have time for that. So he stayed quiet, soaking in Andrew’s comforting presence, already more relaxed than he’d been in weeks.

The moment Neil closed the hotel room door behind him, Andrew was there, pressing him against the wall. Neil inhaled sharply, taking in Andrew’s smell, like faded cologne and sweat and _home_.

Andrew reached for his hands, that were clenched at his sides, and placed one on his waist and the other on his shoulder, nearly like they were dancing. 

“Yes or no?” Andrew asked, hazel eyes intent on Neil’s face. Neil was nodding before Andrew finished his question. But instead of kissing Neil like he expected, Andrew leaned his forehead against Neil’s and closed his eyes.

“Andrew,” Neil murmured. Andrew had his hands buried in Neil’s hair and Neil shivered at the feeling.

When Neil thought Andrew was going to pull away, he started to sing instead.

_A thousand miles seems pretty far_   
_But they've got planes and trains and cars_   
_I'd walk to you if I had no other way_   
_Our friends would all make fun of us_   
_And we'd just laugh along because we'd know_   
_That none of them have felt this way_   
_Delilah, I can promise you_   
_That by the time that we get through_   
_The world will never ever be the same_   
_And you're to blame_

His voice was low and husky and everything that Neil had missed. It just wasn’t the same over the phone. Neil knew Andrew hated showing emotion, only choosing to do so via music, and even then, only rarely. He took what Andrew was giving him and held it gently, tucking it deep within himself for safe-keeping. Then he said,

“Andrew, yes or no?”

“Yes.”

They met halfway, the kiss sweet and desperate and grounding, all at the same time. _God_ , Neil had missed this. Neil ran his fingers through Andrew’s hair, marvelling at the softness. Andrew kissed him with fervour, making up for the three months, one week and two days that they had been apart. After a quick question, his hands were everywhere, leaving Neil breathless and dazed. After a few minutes of this, Andrew pulled Neil away from the door and led them toward the bed, Neil stumbling along after him, not willing to let their lips part. 

“Junkie,” Andrew muttered against Neil’s lips. Neil smiled, feeling complete.

“Your junkie.”

**Author's Note:**

> all my unfinished projects are glaring at me.  
> Anyway hope you liked this mushy disaster, feel free to comment/kudos <3


End file.
